Never Again
by Jasmine2009
Summary: Team Gibbs is kidnapped by a woman who needs something from Director Vance. Is she willing to go to any lengths to get it?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Never Again

Author: Jasmine (AKA Jasmine2009)

Universe: NCIS, Season 10

Rated: T

Warning: Sexual content (Chapter 4 is flagged as 17+). Nothing explicitly graphic, but sexual nonetheless.

Date: June 27, 2013

Author's note: This is the final story in my dust bunny series (those stories that I got bored writing on for whatever reasons. This one contains smut and I'm not real interested writing smut so that's why I think I stopped working on it.). I did finish the story but it hasn't gone through as many revisions as I put those stories that I like through. Hopefully, with the posting of this, I'll be able to get back to my other stories that I'm excited about writing.

Summary: Team Gibbs is kidnapped by a woman who needs something from Director Vance. Is she willing to go to any lengths to get it?

******************************8

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo opened his eyes. Everything was blurry, but considering the circumstances, he figured that was about par. It took several minutes of blinking and shaking the cobwebs from his head before he realized he was tied to a chair in a dimly lit room.

"Okay, Anthony, what was the last thing you remember?" he said to no one.

The last thing he remembered was following a beautiful young blonde back to her place. She was intoxicating in many aspects, not the least of which were her eyes: brilliant blue with a dark ring around her irises. He smiled at the memory until he felt the ropes dig into his chest and the sobering reality of being held against his will came back to him.

Struggling did little but leave chaffing marks around his wrists and ankles, so he resigned himself to thinking. How long before anyone would notice he was missing? Okay, maybe not the best barometer for him getting rescued—he seemed to go missing a lot. How long before someone would call him? Again, not so great a question—he ignored many a phone call. He twisted his mouth around trying to remember the last time he was in this predicament.

If he was any judge of time, and his bladder was usually a pretty good clock, he figured he'd been captive at least eight hours. And that was just the time he'd been awake. No telling how long he'd been out. "Hey!" he yelled, hoping someone would hear him. "I have to use the head!"

The dank, dark room seemed deserted until he heard several locks being turned and the door swung open.

"I hate to be a bother, but unless you want a mess to clean up, I need to use the bathroom."

A man stepped out of the shadows holding an assault weapon steady and ready.

Tony didn't recognize him but it was really too dark to see him clearly and he was mostly focused on the gun aimed at his head. "Do we know each other?" he asked, hoping he might recognize a voice.

When the goon stepped further into the room, Tony could see he was wearing an earpiece and must be receiving instructions because he was fumbling with it. "Roger," was all he said. He slung the weapon over his shoulder and let it dangle by its strap while he put a bag over Tony's head and then removed the rope that was too tight around Tony's chest.

"Thanks, buddy. That was really beginning to hurt."

"Shut up."

Since the goon refused to untie anything else and he couldn't see, the trip to the head was more about balance than stealth, and the actual act of elimination was void of any and all dignity. The round trip must have taken thirty minutes and upon returning to the dark room, the goon removed the bag and shoved him back into the chair and retied the chest rope.

"Hey, buddy! Not so tight!" he groused. "But seeing as you and I have become far too familiar with one another—well, actually you're the one who's familiar with me, although I'd rather not think about that, how about telling me your name? I mean, I can honestly tell you that nobody has ever helped me in the head like you did, so whad'ya say? Who are you?"

An elbow to the side of his jaw halted his inquiry and Tony spit blood onto the floor. "You didn't have to do that…"

And then he was left alone again to nurture the ache in his head. "How 'bout I call you Bubba…"

**********************************8

Tony woke up when he heard the locks on the door. When it swung open, an image of a man with a bag over his head appeared, who Bubba roughly pushed inside and forced into another chair, tying him up. When the bag came off, Tony startled, "McGee!"

Tim shook his head, adjusting to the dim light and said, "Tony?"

"Yeah. They got you too?"

"Who got me?"

Tony shrugged. In the off change that his colleague new something, he asked, "Do you know what's happening?"

"Good question. I went looking for you and ended up here. So, technically, I guess I found you."

"I guess you did. You have any idea where you found me?"

"Not a clue."

"How 'bout why we're here?"

"Again: Not a clue."

The door swung open, and two more subjects were shoved inside, bags over their heads and tied. Bubby seated them together on a sofa, and tied them to each other. Tony recognized the clothes on one and the posture on the other. "Abby? Ziva?"

Bubba snatched off their bags and left.

The Israeli blinked and rolled her neck, "Yeah."

"What happened to you?"

Ziva shared a look with Abby before shrugging, "I have no idea. I was going to your place to find you. Instead, I wind up here."

"And I was walking home. It was such a beautiful night that I decided to walk."

"Are either of you hurt?"

They shook their heads.

"What in the hell's going on?" Tim said. "You don't suppose this is some test that NCIS is conducting, do you?"

"That might explain why you, Ziva, and I are here, but what about Abby? She wouldn't be involved in anything like that."

McGee agreed. "It looks like Gibbs' team is being targeted."

"Technically, McGee," Abby said, "I'm a member of everyone's team, not just Gibbs."

The door swung open again and two more people were pushed inside. Bubba pulled two chairs from the corner and sat a man on each one. Before pulling off their bags, he tied a rope around their chests and secured them together. Satisfied with his work, he pulled the bags off and left.

"Palmer?" Ziva said.

"Ducky?" Abby said. "Are you all right?"

Dr. Mallard looked around at all the people in the room. "I think so. Mr. Palmer?"

"I'm okay, I think."

Ducky looked back at Ziva and asked, "How about you?"

"We seem to be okay, but really confused. What is going on?"

They looked at Tony like he held the answers. "Don't look at me. I'm as in the dark as you are."

"It started with you, Tony," McGee said. "You never called in when you were supposed to. Gibbs sent us out looking for you. What happened to your lip?"

Tony ran his tongue around the corner of his mouth, tasting the blood. "Bubba didn't like something I said."

"That does not surprise me," Ziva said, so low he almost didn't catch it.

"True—" Tim added.

"—All right," Tony interrupted, "let's stay focused here. How did they manage to get us?"

"No doubt they used a girl to get you," McGee said.

Tony hedged, feeling slightly embarrassed, "Yes, Tim, they used a girl to get me. How'd they lure you?"

McGee shrugged, awkwardly avoiding eye contact, and eventually admitting, "A girl."

"Really," Tony mused, finding the admission rewarding. "I'll come back to you later." Turning to Ziva, he asked, "And you?"

She bristled slightly before admitting, "A man."

Tony glared at her. He had so many questions flitting through his head, but decided to table it for another time. He flicked his eyes to Abby and raised his brows in a silent question.

She lowered her eyes, "A man."

The senior field agent was beginning to see a pattern here. "How about you, Palmer? And if you say a girl, I'm busting these ropes and strangling you with them."

"I'm a happily married man, Tony; I'm not interested in another woman."

"So, how'd they get you?"

Palmer stretched his neck, thinking about his answer, "Well, they didn't exactly have to trick me."

"What's that mean?"

"It means that a much bigger man told me to get into the car and I did," he stated, embarrassed that he seemed to be the only one that even the kidnappers didn't think enough of to trick.

Tony tilted his head at the admission and then looked at Ducky. "And you?"

The corners of his mouth moved ever so slightly and he held his head a little higher, and with an air of pride, he articulated, "A young woman showed an interest."

The words floated amorously around the room and, in a very odd way, Tony felt a connection to the medical examiner, but it didn't stop him from making a very dour conclusion about his colleagues.

"What do you expect!" Ziva countered. "With the exception of Palmer, we are all single! It is only natural that we keep our options open and explore them whenever they present themselves."

"You were supposed to be looking for me, not checking out the opposite sex. This reminds me of an old Alfred Hitchcock film—"

"—Tony," Tim chastised, "this isn't the time. Don't you think we have more serious issues to worry about? Like how we're going to escape?"

"—Or why we're even here?" Abby added.

"—Or what they want with us," Ziva said.

"All right," he agreed. "No matter the method, someone has managed to capture all but one of us for unknown reasons."

"That's right! Where's Gibbs?" Abby said.

"Do you really think Gibbs could be lured away by a pretty face?" McGee said.

"Why not? The rest of us were."

Tony was deep in thought and as much as they didn't like to admit it, he was the one most likely to figure this out. Even if he didn't, he was a pleasure to watch as they could practically see the wheels of reason moving slowly but steadily as the various facts of their situation were being moved into place and theories being developed and discarded at warp speed.

"What are you thinking about?" Ducky asked.

"I can see why they'd take me, McGee, and Ziva, but why would they take you, Palmer and Abby? It doesn't make any sense." He thought some more, then added, "Unless they want something."

"Who's 'they'?"

Tony shrugged, his eyes moving around the room with each passing thought. Even if they tried to get on board his logic train, he was a lot like Gibbs and they'd just end up playing catch up. So they waited, silently, for him to do his thing.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you if you've taken the time to PM me or review. It always gives me insight into what the reader is thinking. Enjoy. ~Jasmine**

**********************************8

The door opened and Tony watched Bubba enter, look around like he were counting his victims, and then step aside. Another man, slightly smaller, entered and looked around until his eyes landed squarely on Tony. "Where is Special Agent Gibbs?"

Tony shrugged, "I have no idea. In case you haven't noticed, I've been here for the past eight or ten hours, at least."

The man pulled out what appeared to be an smartphone and approached Tony. He tapped on the screen and looked up, like he'd forgotten a room full of people was staring at him. With a tone that could only be described as aloof, he repeated, "I hate asking questions twice, but I will since I believe you may want to reconsider your answer. Where is Special Agent Gibbs?"

"There's nothing to reconsider. I have no idea where he is. And, in case you've forgotten, I've been here the longest and I'm not even sure how long that's been."

In one stride, the man pressed the end of the phone to Tony's chest, and the electricity shot coursed through his body.

"Hey!" Ziva yelled, realizing what was happening.

Withdrawing the stun phone, he turned slowly towards her and said, "You care to tell me where Special Agent Gibbs is?"

"We do not know where he is," she answered. "We left NCIS before he did, assuming he left at all."

Tony lifted his head, catching his breath. Being zapped with fifty thousand volts was not a pleasant experience.

The goon tapped on his screen several times and turned his attention back to Tony. "Like I said, I hate asking the same question twice. I need to know where Gibbs is, and if I don't get an answer, I'll up the voltage until I do. How does seventy five thousand volts sound to you?"

"Painful," Tony murmured. "But it won't do any good. You can zap me with a hundred thousand volts and I won't be able to tell you where he is."

"We'll see about that." And Tony jerked in agony as the butt of the phone was once again pressed against his chest, forcing intense and agonizing pain throughout his body.

"He's telling you the truth!" Ducky objected. "None of us know where Special Agent Gibbs is."

"Stop it!"

All eyes turned to the doorway where a woman stood. Her eyes were fierce with anger and it wasn't lost on the goon. He quickly dropped the stun phone and backed away. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I was only trying to speed things up. I know you are working on a tight schedule."

She stood in the doorway a moment, assessing each person as they stared at her. Finally, her eyes landed on the slumped over prisoner. She approached Tony slowly and gently lifted his chin. The burning sensation was still coursing its way through his body as he struggled to catch his breath. Taking her sleeve, she wiped some blood from the corner of his mouth and shot a glare across the room. "Get out," she demanded of her goons.

They scurried out, leaving her alone with the prisoners. She wanted to touch the man's head, but pulled her hand back, rethinking her actions. Without speaking, she made her way slowly to the door, took one last look at Tony and left, bolting the door behind her.

"Tony?" McGee said, nudging his colleague to lift his head again. "Are you okay?"

After a few more breaths, he said, "Yeah."

But not a person in the room believed him as there were no quips or any sarcastic remarks to back up his answer. Instead, they listened to his breathing, waiting for it to still.

******************************************8

"At least we know who they want," Tony said, breaking the silence of the last hour.

"You okay?" McGee asked.

"I've been better. Nothing like having your circuits fried to change your mood." He twisted his neck, working out the kinks and thinking.

"We know who they want. Now the question becomes why?" Palmer said.

Tony rotated his shoulders and flexed his muscles as best he could. He was still feeling the burning sensation of the current which was greatly interfering with his ability to think. "Well, we can safely assume Gibbs has many enemies. Probably as many as I have, but why take all of us when she only wants one of us?"

Abby furrowed her brow, "A woman … after Gibbs? He might have many enemies, but few are women."

Tony nodded his head in agreement, "That does make it interesting." He stopped talking when he heard footsteps outside the door. "Oh boy. Can't wait to piss him off again."

The door swung open and Bubba pushed another man through with a bag over his head. They instantly recognized him by the dark suit. He was shoved into a chair, tied and bound, and just before leaving, Bubba ripped the bag off his head and closed and bolted the door behind him.

"Director Vance?" Tim said.

Vance looked around, blinking and trying to get his bearings. "What the hell is going on?"

"We wish we knew," Dr. Mallard answered. "We're as in the dark as you are."

Turning to the senior agent in the room, and the one who would give it to him straight, he said, "Report, Agent DiNozzo."

"Whoever orchestrated this has managed to capture each of us by exploiting our weaknesses, which possibly explains why they haven't captured Gibbs yet. One room, one door, one vent, but it's too small for a person to crawl through. We're underground as the temperature hasn't fluctuated from 68 degrees since I've been here. At least two thugs, one equipped with a stun phone which he isn't afraid to use, the other carrying an automatic weapon, and a woman who seems to be in charge. They are careful not to use names. They seem to be after Gibbs."

Vance leaned back, still clearing the cobwebs and thinking. "What case have you been working?"

"The Johnson murder case. It'd be hard to connect that to this."

The Director leaned his head back and had to agree. Crimes of passion rarely developed into anything more. "So, why are _we_ here?"

"And, where is Gibbs?"

***********************************8

This time, they didn't have to wait long before the door opened and the same woman appeared, only this time, she was alone. She looked around and let her eyes land on one man. "Special Agent DiNozzo?"

He swallowed. She exuded sex appeal, but he knew she was as dangerous as she was beautiful. And there was something about her that just didn't sit well with him. Silhouetted in the doorway in a pair of tight fitting blue jeans and an even tighter fitting black ribbed turtle neck sweater, her face was shadowed, leaving him only with his previous image of her. Her dirty blonde hair couldn't decide where to fall, in front or behind her shoulders, and her voice held a hint of an accent. As she approached him, he could smell her French perfume.

Ignoring the rest of the people, she only seemed interested in him, and she circled him, gently touching his shoulder as she did. It was obvious she was flirting. Strange thing to do, they thought.

Tony followed her with his eyes until she disappeared behind him. "That may have worked before, but it's not going to work again. I'm a quick study."

She smiled and ran a light finger down his face. "I wish you would tell me where your Special Agent Gibbs is."

He looked her up and down, flirting back. "I don't know. And I think you know that I don't know. I think you know that I couldn't possibly know where he is, which brings us to the question of why you're even asking me in the first place?"

She inhaled, exhilarated by the reproach. She backed away, reluctantly, and looked around at the group of people staring at her. "I'd hate to have to bring Hilkert back."

"If Hilkert's the one with the stun gun cell phone, I'd hate for you to bring him back too."

"Kind of painful, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

A low ding was heard and she pulled her phone off her belt clip and read her message. Smiling, she replied to the text. "Now we're making progress."

Again, she glided past the attractive agent, allowing her fingers to lightly touch his jaw and run across his shoulders. She returned carrying a chair and set it in front of him.

Tony asked, "You're making progress how?"

"It means Hilkert won't have to use his new toy anymore."

The door opened wide and in walked Bubba, dragging another person roughly in behind him. Even with the bag over his head, he was easily recognizable as Gibbs. Bubba bound him to a chair and ripped the bag off his head.

"Welcome, Special Agent Gibbs," she cooed.

Jethro looked around, concluding quickly that his entire team was now being held captive, along with his boss. "Who are you?"

"It doesn't matter. What matters now is my plan can begin." She nodded to Bubba and he went to each prisoner and checked the ropes, ensuring they were still bound securely. Another nod sent him away. "I'll be brief. The sooner I have accomplished my mission, the better it is for all. But I need certain people to help me get what I want."

Her eyes flashed to Tony briefly before landing on Director Vance.

"I need access to the Navy Yard," she said, turning her full attention towards him, "and that's where you come in, Director Vance."

Vance furrowed his brow. "I'm not—"

"—Don't worry, Director. I'm not planning on bombing the place, but I will do some bodily harm to many people if you don't cooperate. Starting with these people in this room."

"Why the Navy Yard," Gibbs asked, still trying to acclimate himself.

"Because that's where the information is. I stand to make a great deal of money with just a few key strokes. And my men…well , let's just say they're much better muscle than they are brains. Computers aren't exactly their area of expertise. But I know that you, Director, know your way around such beasts, which is why you are taking me there. If you do as you're told, your people just might walk out of here alive."

"I can't just access anything in our database. I have to follow protocols, supply a reason—"

"No, you don't," she answered casually. "Your login can override anything. The thing about your security that is problematic for me is that you have to be physically in the building when your access code is used; otherwise, they send in the dogs. That's why you need to accompany me. I'd have done this long ago if it hadn't been for that."

"That explains why you kidnapped me," he said, "but why them?"

"Pretty simple, really. I need them out of the way. I couldn't risk them discovering who I was or what I was doing before I completed my mission. Nor can I risk them being put on the case and solving it before I've had a chance to sell my merchandise. Your people, especially this particularly team, all have a reputation, you know, and I just need two days of uninterrupted time, and then I'll be gone. I couldn't have them coming in and spoiling all my hard work now, could I?"

She enjoyed that she could silence the top ranking official in NCIS, and render him speechless. She always liked doing that and when she finally got the key piece of data that she was missing, there were at least three men who she'd do the same thing to. Of course, one man would outbid the others, but she didn't care who she sold the information to, just that they came prepared with the hundred million dollars that she was asking. Three days from now, she'd be on her way to a remote island on the other side of the world starting a new life. Everything was perfect except for one thing.

She glanced in the direction of the handsome agent and wondered. Some men could be bought, some couldn't. She wondered where he fell. She wanted to see his eyes again, touch his face, feel the muscles in his neck. And right now, nothing was stopping her from doing just that.

"I picked you up first, Agent DiNozzo, because I just wanted to look at you. Anybody ever tell you that you're really quite handsome?"

She came around from behind, her fingers lightly trailing over his shoulders. "Once, but I don't think mothers count."

She laughed at his comment. From the first time she realized he existed, she had been infatuated. She told herself it was his line of work that turned her on for she always seemed to fall for the ones who carried a gun. But a part of her body fluttered when he spoke and she yearned for a night of passion with this particular one.

Tony suddenly found himself looking straight into her eyes. She had thrown her leg over him and was now straddling him in a position he found exceptionally erotic.

Rubbing his chest gently, she said, "I'm sorry that Hilkert used the stun phone on you. I think he knows how I feel and he hates competition."

"Would he be my competition, because I could take him in five minutes."

She laughed again and rested her arms on his shoulders, leaning in close. "I can't do anything until the morning when your navy yard opens. Perhaps you'd be willing to entertain me for the night?"

Tony leaned back and looked her straight in the eye. This was no trick on her part he quickly realized. She was definitely being turned on and she definitely wanted him.

"A pretty girl, a bed? I don't often say no to that combination."

She kissed him lightly on the lips and whispered. "I'm glad. Maybe there are other things you won't say no to."

"Could you do me just one small favor?" he asked, taking a chance.

She looked at him, expectantly.

"Could you promise me that Hilkert won't use that thing again? It feels pretty nasty and I suspect once you and I leave, he may be a tad jealous and take it out on someone in here."

She ran her hands through his hair and laughed, "You sure know your competition. I'll have him taken care of if that's your pleasure." She slid off him and pulled out her phone. She sent several text messages and a minute later, Bubba and Hilkert appeared, although Hilkert looked less pleased than his counterpart.

"Untie him," she ordered.

Bubba didn't hesitate, but Hilkert protested, "Untie him? Why? We should keep them all together."

"Untie him now, please."

"But, Layla, I thought—"

The bullet ripped through him, stunning him for only a second until he realized what had happened. He gave the woman a pleading look, and then crumbled to the floor, where his blood began pooling around his neck and shoulders.

Tony was wide eyed at what he'd just witnessed and deaf from the blast. Palmer and Ducky stared at Bubba, as did Ziva and Abby. He seemed detached from what he'd just done. As he holstered his gun, he leaned down to untie his prisoner, whispering into his good ear, "You're next if you harm her in any way."

Tony rubbed his wrists and stood up, sneaking a peak at the murderer as he did. He'd stiffened up considerably and moved slowly hoping the added blood circulation would increase his mobility. He stepped over the body of Hilkert and took hold of the woman's outstretched hand.

Her smile grew when they touched, "I see great things in your future, Agent DiNozzo."

As Tony followed her, he glanced at Gibbs. He wore a knowing expression.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

*********************************8

Bubba and another man carried Hilkert's body out of the small room. They didn't bother cleaning up the blood, but they did move Tony's chair so it covered most of it. Once the door was closed and locked, there was barely enough light to make out everyone's features.

Palmer thought he was whispering when he leaned over to Dr. Mallard and said, "Gives a whole new meaning to sleeping with the enemy."

"It is a viable tactic, Jimmy. Operatives do it all the time. I doubt Tony will enjoy it," Ziva stated, matter of factly.

Tim, Gibbs, Vance and even Ducky looked in her direction. Yes, it was a viable tactic, but the latter part? It was a good thing it was so dark because their expressions would have given their thoughts away. Tony was a warm blooded American male, nothing more needed to be said, but they had the good sense not to argue.

"I would concern myself with what she intends on doing with him after she gets the information she wants," the doctor finally said, collecting himself first among the visual-makers.

Abby added, "Or what she intends to do with us after she gets the information she wants."

"I can't give her access to the Naval Yard. No telling what she's looking for and what piece of information she needs. With my access code, she can get to a lot of top-secret data."

Gibbs remained quiet, listening to the conversation but offering very little. His lack of contributions was noticeable and Vance eventually asked, "You have thoughts on the matter?"

"I say we let DiNozzo do his thing, and be ready for when he does."

**********************************8

Walking down the corridor, Tony noticed they were being watched, every sixteen to twenty yards was a gun-toting guard. He wondered if they knew about Hilkert yet, and if they did, would they want revenge. Thugs often stuck together in a perverse sort of way. If you harmed one, you had better be prepared to take on all of them. Not exactly a subject he wanted to entertain. On the other hand, maybe they'd take their anger out on Bubba. After all, he was the one who actually killed him.

The woman he was following seemed to be in control. She was calm, fluid, and had a backside that swished with rhythm. It definitely got his attention, and that of the guards. But he sensed if one of them so much as showed an interest, she'd have cut him down, like she did Hilkert. She definitely exerted some power over them to the point where they diverted their eyes even when she walked by.

"So, Layla," Tony started. "Nice name."

She shot him a good natured look, smiling. "Saying my name cost a man his life once."

"Oh, well in that case, I won't say it."

"You can call me Layla. Besides, it's not my real name."

"Any chance of getting to know who you really are?"

She faced him, walking backwards now. "There's more than a chance, Agent DiNozzo. I feel like you're going to know me very well."

The sexual connotation was not lost on him and he enjoyed the banter, in a nervous sort of way. There was no amount of beauty that a woman could possess that could lay his mind at ease in situations like this, but it was a nice distraction. She was a killer, a murderer really, and there wasn't a step he took that he didn't lose sight of that fact. But he, himself, often walked that thin line between bad and good, and he liked the exhilaration that came with the bad.

They rode a service elevator up several floors, transferred to another elevator, and took it to the top. Every point along the way required her fingerprint scan or palm scan. The security was more than adequate, he thought. When the elevator doors parted, they stepped in to a small room occupied by an armed guard. He stood aside while the scanner read her palm and she opened the thick mahogany door and stepped inside.

It was exactly like he remembered his father's hotel rooms looking, maybe a tad more opulent, but not by much. He didn't have to look around to know there'd be a baby-grand piano near a wall of windows that overlooked some city; the question was, which city? Nor did he have to see the bedroom to know that it housed a custom sized bed either sitting on a platform or sheathed in netting.

"You don't seem very surprised by all this," she said.

"Well, it's like this, Layla: You've seen one penthouse apartment, you've seen them all."

She handed him a drink. "I don't understand you. You don't fit the profile of a federal agent. Have you ever considered going rogue?"

He took the drink and stared at it a moment. "More times than I care to admit."

"So what's stopping you?"

"Haven't found the one thing worth going rogue for."

She acknowledged the truth in that statement with a shrug and took a swallow of some finely distilled bourbon.

"And you, Layla, don't exactly fit the profile of a traitor? Have you ever considered forgetting this whole thing and coming clean?"

She chuckled at his advice and shook her head. "I didn't start out being a traitor. It was sort of forced on me."

He took another sip, and by his expression, not buying the explanation.

"Really, it was," she defended. "I grew up in the mountains of Kentucky, one of thirteen children and dirt poor."

"Another rags to riches story with a twist?"

She hesitated briefly before saying, "I'll let you decide after you hear my story."

He raised his brows in anticipating of hearing more.

She continued, "One day while my friend and I were at a small shopping mall, Mr. Jones 'discovered' me, as he likes to say, and told me he could take me away from all this poverty and destitution. Being young and naïve, it didn't take long to make up my mind, and so I packed my bags, said goodbye to my mother, and followed him here. He never asked me to do anything illegal, and I was never a prostitute or anything like that, but he did teach me which fork to use, how to greet a visiting dignitary, and how to smooze with the best of them. I quickly learned that a pretty face can open doors in this town faster and quieter than a three letter title.

"And Mr. Jones did all that out of the goodness of his heart?"

"Hell, no!" she retorted, smiling all the while. "He wanted leverage, and the best way to get leverage is to know something that no one else knows. So for the next ten years, I rubbed elbows with some of the most powerful people in the most powerful city in the world, Washington DC . I learned how to gain the trust of men with a single smile, and the trust of women with nothing more than a fashion accessory. As long as I gathered what Mr. Jones wanted, I lived a very comfortable existence.

"So, what changed?"

She poured another drink and took a big swallow. "I had a run in with someone. He hurt me real bad and nobody did anything about it. Once I got out of the hospital, Mr. Jones severed ties with me and left me on my own. Said I was no good to him anymore. I wanted revenge for what this man had done to me, but you can't very well exact revenge on someone like the President of United States, so I did the next best thing. I started collecting my own secrets. Soon, I discovered that what I had was worth millions to the right people. So, traitor is a rather harsh description, I think. I'm not out to get the United States, just the people who run it. I like to think of myself as an equalizer, someone who balances the scales between good and evil."

"That's how you justify your actions?"

She shrugged. There was so much more to her story, but he'd have to be satisfied with that for now.

Tony walked to the wall of windows and peered out. The room overlooked the majestic White House and the circular front landscaping of the ellipse. When he turned his head, he saw the massive stairs leading to the Capitol of the United States and the white pillars of the Supreme Court building. The Washington Monument poked high into the air so close he felt if he had a balcony he could reach out and touch it.

"And this view has no affect on you?"

"I've seen that view for three administrations, and, no, it has no effect on me. After your Director does what I ask him to do, I'll disappear and no one will ever hear from me again."

"Sounds kind of lonely, if you ask me. Speaking of the Director, what do you plan to do with us after you get what you want?"

She set her glass down and ran her fingers up Tony's arm and around his neck. "It wouldn't be lonely if you came with me."

He let her reach up and kiss him, confirming what he already thought: She had no intention of letting any of them go alive.

****************************************8

"How long has it been?" Abby asked.

"About eight hours," Tim said, "since she and Tony left."

"It's good news that he hasn't returned, right?"

"Not for my bladder," Ziva said.

As if on cue, the door opened and Bubba appeared. He came with another guard who just stood at the door with his firearm ready.

Bubba checked the bonds on all prisoners and then untied Ziva and said, "Follow him to the bathroom. He'll take you one at a time. If you do anything other than use the toilet, a message will automatically be sent to my boss, and Agent DiNozzo will die in a most painful manner."

Since Tony was their best means of escape, getting him killed wasn't something anyone wanted. One by one, they used the bathroom without resistance. Twenty minutes later, they were all feeling better physically, but emotionally, they were still spent.

Palmer said the obvious, "So, I guess we can safely assume they have ears in this room."

"And probably eyes, too," Dr. Mallard added.

**TBC**

**Love the comments and glad people are enjoying the story. The next chapter is rated T-17+ so skip it if sexual content is not your thing. ~Jasmine**


	4. Chapter 4

Warning: Rated: T+ (Seventeen and over) Please stop reading if sexual content is offensive. [Note: The 2nd section in this chapter is not rated T+, so if you wanted, you could skip the 1st section, read the 2nd section,and then skip the last section if you get offended by this sort of content.]

***************************************8

Layla's preferred position was on top, and she settled into a rhythm that tested Tony's endurance. They had already consummated their relationship three times, and he quickly learned that she could be as fierce in her love making as she could be tender. And based on her constant desire for him, it was evident that she hadn't been with a man worthy of her talents in a long time. Not that he thought of himself as Adonis, but she certainly seemed to.

He never stopped his thrusting when she arched her back and let the ripples of carnality over take her; instead, he continued until she was in sync with him again. And he let her guide the way, telling him with her eyes and moans when she was ready to experience another orgasm. But when the pressure deep inside his abdomen had intensified and he could no longer hold back, he held tightly to her waist and waited as her desirous moans grew in strength, until he could no longer control the urge and he released, exploding deep within her. For several minutes, they writhed in each other's arms, experiencing the purely unadulterated and delirious pleasure of simultaneous orgasms.

She fell over, landing next to him on the oversized bed. Breathing heavily, he pulled his hand over his chest, wondering if he was going to have a heart attack with his heart beating the way it was. Sweat poured off their faces and they lay, catching their breath, slowing their hearts, and clearing their heads.

"Wow," she gasped.

He lulled his head and looked at her profile. She may not have been the best lover he'd ever been with, but she was pretty damn close. Same could be said of her beauty. He eventually rolled onto his side facing her, wanting to have a badly needed discussion, but she had other plans. She spooned into him and took his arm and draped it over her. He could tell that she felt comfortable and relaxed, probably more than she'd felt in a long time.

And he felt the same way. He liked her company, her humor, her looks, and her sexual prowess. If he allowed it, he could fall for her. She was everything he had longed for in a woman. But once again, she was exactly what he couldn't have. And when he thought about not having her, it wasn't in an incompatible way; it was in a dangerous way. As in, she is a very dangerous woman. Something in his gut told him she was not what she seemed. Once again, he was reminded of how his gut could sometimes suck.

******************************8

-RETURN TO REGULAR T Rating-

Palmer looked around at his colleagues. They may not have anyone home waiting for them, but he did. "Breena's going to be really worried," he said.

Abby's expression changed and she became excited. "Hey! She could call the police!"

Unfortunately, her enthusiasm wasn't being reciprocated and she cocked her head and said, "She's the only one who's going to miss us, right?"

Ziva stretched her neck and explained, "They took our cell phones and are probably answering our text messages. They are most likely telling her that Jimmy is working on a case and does not know when he will be home."

"Oh," she said, deflated. Sometimes her own naiveté really annoyed her.

"That explains why I got my insulin," Palmer considered. "They gave me my pouch when they took us to the bathroom. Breena always reminds me to take it when I work late."

"Agent Gibbs," Vance said, pulling himself out of his thoughts, "do you remember Senator Peterson from Illinois?"

It was an odd question but Gibbs remembered him. He had run for the Democratic bid for President two elections ago and lost. He had ridden the sympathy train because his wife had been diagnosed with brain cancer and he was the perfect image of a devoted husband and father. That is until one of the national rags uncovered his affinity for a beautiful blonde. He fell from grace very quickly, but the twist wasn't so much that he had an affair but that certain intelligence files showed up on the black market. He headed up the government oversight committee on homeland security and it was widely speculated that the files came from his office. Nothing could be proven, but his reputation had been so hurt that he was forced to resign under threat of prosecution. "Yeah, I remember him."

Dr. Mallard had remembered the case too. It had been headline news for many weeks. But there was something else he was thinking about: the death of another man and his connection to a beautiful blonde. "Do you remember the investigation into the death of Colonel Benjamin Briggs?"

Suddenly, Gibbs was connecting the dots. His mind moved quickly to identify the woman who was responsible for bringing down Peterson and Briggs as Clara Halloway, AKA Crazy Dame. A killer of the most dangerous kind, an expert at avoiding capture and one of the smoothest con artists ever to work the political venues of DC. And Tony was with her. "DiNozzo. He's going to be in trouble."

"What are you talking about?" Ziva asked, not bothering to mask her concern.

Vance said, "There's a woman who's eluded law enforcement agencies for over three years. She's a professional information trader, meaning she tricks high ranking politicians into giving her access to restricted places. She somehow manages to get the intel she needs and then sells that information to the highest bidder. Usually, she leaves a path of death and destruction in her wake."

"Why hasn't she been caught?" McGee asked.

"Because she never leaves any witnesses."

*****************************8

-Rated T+(Seventeen and Over)-

Tony woke with a start. He hadn't slept very well, mostly trying to figure out how he was going to contain her while avoiding being shot by all her hired help carrying automatic weapons.

She rolled over and touched his face, "Hey, Good-Lookin'."

"Hi."

She moved seductively and wantonly and it took every ounce of his willpower not to succumb to her again. He needed answers, and he figured she owed him answers. Throwing caution to the wind, he simply asked, "Why don't you let my friends go?"

Annoyed, she controlled her anger and said, "Not know, darling."

"If not now, then when?"

"I don't want to talk about them."

"You've used me for what you wanted, now do me a favor and let them go."

She slowly turned her head to face him. Barely being able to control her anger, she replied, "I said I'm not talking about them. Besides, they are dead by now. Well, everyone except your Director."

He stared in dumbfounded disbelief.

"Don't look so surprised. You knew that the minute I told you my plans. You, on the other hand, have a future if you decide to join me."

And suddenly he realized who he was dealing with, and his blood chilled. She was the woman dubbed Crazy Dame by law enforcement officials around the country. There were no pictures of her, but she was infamous for using her feminine wiles to trick and seduce government officials who often never knew they had been duped. If they were lucky, they only lost their reputations; the not so lucky ones lost their lives as well. From all accounts, she'd never been photographed or ID'd by any witnesses. She was so good at what she did that few people even realized they were being duped until it was too late. Some profilers called her psychotic, while others labeled her a sociopath.

"Why are you staring at me?" she demanded.

"I just thought of something."

"Did you just realize who I am?"

He stared at her, not sure how he should answer.

Her blue eyes deepened in color and she threw herself on top of him, pressing her mouth hard against his. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, sexually devouring him. He returned the gesture with equally as much force elevating their passion to a dangerous state of euphoria. His brain stopped functioning as she knew all too well that it would because hers was barely working.

His mind spun when she sought out and manipulated all the places on his body that drove him crazy. He decided it was his turn to be on top, and he rolled her over and felt her legs spread in lustful anticipation. There wasn't a part of her body that didn't feel like satin against his. The rhythm they kept and the pace she set was far too fast for him and if he was going to make this last, he needed to slow things down. He did, but she craved him and pushed him deep inside, moaning, building to her own climax, thrusting as much as she could until her muscles rippled in ecstasy and she cried out in delusional excitement at the pleasure she was deriving from her handsome lover.

And she never felt the 66 pounds of pressure applied to her neck.

He lay on top of her; his own needs having been denied. She was still smiling, and her eyes were open, unfocused on any one object. By her expression, he almost didn't believe she was dead and so he felt for her carotid artery.

She was dead.

He closed her eyes and then rolled off her, half waiting to hear her voice. The moment was surreal as he tried to wrap his brain around what he'd just done. It wasn't something he'd ever done before, so he had no way of knowing just how damn easy it was to break someone's neck. But it was. As it began to sink in, his stomach lurched, and he made it to the bathroom just in time to empty the contents of his stomach.

**TBC**

**End of the T+(Seventeen and over) rating. Returning to the T rating for the remaining chapters.**


	5. Chapter 5

Rated: T

**************************************8

Sitting on the bathroom floor, he continued to try and make sense out of his actions, but there was nothing to make sense of. He had killed her. Plain and simple. Wiping his mouth, he pulled himself up and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Where they gone? Was everyone he ever cared about dead?

"Okay, Anthony, pull it together," he whispered.

He suddenly felt nervous, wondering if anyone had been watching on closed circuit television and was now going to invade the penthouse suite. He got up and looked around. Maybe he would find a gun, or a knife, or anything that could be used as a weapon, but she kept nothing like that around.

He couldn't see any cameras, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. He left the bathroom and returned to the bedroom, avoiding looking at the body that lay dead on the bed. He came up with a simple plan: he must somehow lure the guard standing outside the suite door inside. He threw on his pants and his button down shirt. Then he removed his shirt again as his simple plan became more complex.

Steeling his nerves, he went to the door and just before he opened it, he plastered on a facade he'd perfected long ago. Just as he thought, the lone guard was standing at attention. She really had them trained well, he thought. "Hey, Buddy?"

The man raised his automatic rifle, nervous at seeing him and not his boss.

"Take it easy," Tony soothed, hoping he sounded convincing. "She just wants to see you and she asked me to come get you." Tony stood aside to allow the guard entrance.

The no-neck goon was more than a little hesitant and Tony quickly realized that such a request had probably never been made of him before, so he coaxed him along. "I don't know about you, but pissing her off isn't how I want to start my day."

Hearing that, the guard lowered his rifle and walked inside, instantly alert to anything unusual. Fortunately, there was nothing.

"I'll tell her you're here." Tony walked down the hallway and into the bedroom. The guard listened as he spoke to her but still seemed reluctant to come any further. A minute later, Tony called out, "Hey!"

The guard looked up, nervous.

"She wants you to come on back," Tony said, waving him in casually.

The guard hesitantly approached and Tony stepped aside so he could enter the bedroom.

The guard lowered his rifle as he walked in and catching a glimpse of her on the bed, he immediately stood straighter and replied, "Yes ma'am!" But the scene didn't make sense and it wasn't until he looked closer that he determined she didn't look right at all. But he was prevented from nurturing and developing those thoughts by a vintage bottle of 1999 Chateau Bri'aun table wine crashing down on his skull.

Tony checked for a pulse and found one. Grabbing the guard's automatic rifle and a shirt, he quickly exited the penthouse suite.

************************************8**

Vance stirred, tired of being strapped to a wooden chair and sore from the ropes. Abby and Ziva had managed to find a comfortable position leaning against each other, and Ducky and Palmer had even managed to acquire some degree of comfort. Neither McGee nor Gibbs looked the least bit bothered by their confinements and these observations seemed to bother him.

The Director shifted his thoughts to the task he was being asked to perform. If he didn't escort Crazy Dame to the Navy Yard and give her access to the Navy's most secretive files, she would most likely kill everyone in this room. And if he did submit to her request, she would most likely kill everyone in this room. He also came to another conclusion: with the exception of Palmer and Scuito, everyone else seemed to know the outcome.

He noticed Gibbs staring at him, but he wasn't ready to engage the man in any conversation, unless it involved an escape plan.

"Do you hear that?" Palmer said, perplexing everyone.

Vance listened but shook his head.

"I do," Ziva said, cocking her head. Everyone strained their ears to hear what the two were hearing. "It sounds like gunfire."

"Or fireworks," Abby said.

"No, it is definitely gunfire. Automatic weapons, to be exact," Ziva said.

The sound grew as the seconds ticked by, and Gibbs nodded his head, liked he knew something.

"Care to share with the rest of us?" Vance said.

"That's Tony, and if I were you, I'd try and move as far away from that door as you can get."

The explosion sounded like it was coming from all over, and everyone tied to a chair scooted as far away from the door while listening to the blasts grow in intensity.

The door burst open and Tony rushed in, slamming it closed behind him. Out of breath, he stared, confused at what he saw, but a blast of gunfire forced him to turn his attention from his colleagues and back to his pursuers. He opened the door and sprayed the area with automatic rounds. Slamming it shut again, he stared at the people.

Gibbs didn't recognize the expression his senior agent wore. "You okay, DiNozzo?" he asked, a little unnerved by his agent's demeanor.

"You're alive," Tony whispered, uncertain if he should believe his eyes.

"Yeah, but not for long if you don't get us out of here."

Tony flinched at the gunfire hitting the door, but rather than returning the fire, he looked at each person.

"Hey!" Gibbs said, bringing his agent's attention back around.

"She said she'd killed you."

"She didn't, DiNozzo. Do you think you can untie us?" Gibbs said, studying his agent.

Tony threw the rifle over his shoulder and fumbled with the ropes binding his boss. Once free, Gibbs caught a glimpse of his agent's eyes and didn't like what he saw. Slipping the automatic weapon from his shoulder, Gibbs carried it to the door and waited. He caught another glimpse of Tony untying the others, only his fingers weren't working so well and his concentration seemed off.

"How'd you get away?" McGee asked. But he received only a blank stare as an answer.

Moving away from his colleagues, Tony asked his boss, "How's it look?"

"Quiet."

Tony reached for the door, but Gibbs put a hand on his wrist. "You okay, DiNozzo?"

"Yeah," he lied, a little too quickly.

Gibbs ticked his head to the blood on his chest, "That yours?"

For the first time, Tony looked down at his white dress shirt and saw it splattered and blotched in blood. Then he felt the fire in his side. "Maybe. Some of it."

"Stand back," Gibbs said. "Ziva."

She came forward and took the only other weapon Tony had on him, and he surprisingly let her.

Gibbs peered out the door, ready to slam it shut again if need be, but there were no shots fired, and there was nothing when Ziva peeked down the long hallway. If this was the prelude to an ambush, it was a pretty lousy plan. There were no places for anyone to hide, and for all intent and purposes, the place now looked deserted.

One by one, they followed Gibbs and Ziva, passing body after body presumably the result of Tony's entrance. The first body they passed, Tony bent down and took the pistol. Gibbs shot him a look, weighing the pros and cons of his agent carrying a weapons. "Tim," he said, ticking his head.

Tim was hesitant to take the weapon but he decided he'd rather have Tony pissed at him than Gibbs. He slipped the gun from his colleague's hand and was surprised when there was no resistance and even more surprised when Tony had nothing to say about it. While taking it, though, he had felt the slight trembling of his hand. They continued down the corridor, single file.

Until they came upon a man they recognized. Bubba lay sprawled on the cement floor, blood pooling around his chest, Gibbs noticed that Tony wouldn't look at the body. He wasn't the only one who noticed.

For reasons unknown, the rest of the goons had vacated the premises. Once Gibbs had cleared the corridor, he looked back, catching another glimpse of his agent. There was something there, something that shouldn't have been there. Something that was dangerous.

But Tony wouldn't look at him. He wouldn't look at anyone. And that's when Gibbs knew. Gently, he asked, "Where is she?"

But Tony didn't readily reply. His eyes were searching for an answer.

"Hey," Gibbs coaxed, pulling him back into the conversation.

But Tony just stared at him.

********************************8

Gibbs stood in the doorway looking at the body on the bed. He didn't need the medical examiner to tell him she was dead, nor did he need Ducky to tell him how she died. He just knew. If Tony thought they were dead, he wouldn't have given his actions a second thought.

Vance had already called in every available agent before he had been picked up and driven away. He didn't need to see the woman as much as he needed to run his agency and make sure no one had already stolen any secrets or was currently stealing secrets as they were standing around licking their wounds from the ordeal.

Dr. Mallard pushed the hair off her face and felt behind her neck. "Snapped. She didn't feel anything." Turning, he said, "Mr. Palmer, why don't you wait in the lobby for our equipment."

"Yes, doctor," he said, anxious to leave the room until he realized he had to stand next to Tony who had been instructed to wait outside the suite door. He'd dealt with dead bodies all the time, but never the hands that actually killed them. He was glad when the elevator door closed and he could breathe again.

"You don't think Tony did this, do you?" McGee asked.

Gibbs titled his head, like that was the most ridiculous question he'd ever heard.

"I mean, if he did do it, he did it thinking we were dead." He looked for support from Ziva.

But her eyes were sorrowful, not for the dead woman, but for her partner. What it must have taken to do what he did at the moment in which he did it, she could only imagine. The only thing she could think of that would cause him to act in such a manner was being told they were all dead. Being the sole survivor can wreak havoc on one's psyche and the reaction is often unpredictable and the results devastating. It can affect an agent for years.

Gibbs ignored the computer guru and found Tony leaning against the wall in the marbled covered foyer.

He heard him coming. "She told me she had killed all of you."

"Tony?"

"She said you were dead, everyone except Vance."

Gibbs handed him another wet towel to press against his side. The bleeding had subsided, but hadn't completely stopped. "Write it up in your report, Tony. Nobody is going to question what you did."

"I thought you were dead."

"I know."

"When she told me—" he cut himself off, choking back the words.

"I know."

"I never would have—" Tony turned to better face his boss, "you know I'm not a—"

"C'mon, I'll take you home."

Tony pushed off the wall, but looked back at the door, like he wanted to take one last look. Maybe even try to convince himself that he hadn't really killed her, but Gibbs grabbed his sleeve and redirected him towards the elevator.

*************************************8

Tony stepped out of the shower and looked at his reflection. Instead of Gibbs driving him home, his boss had driven him back to his place and promptly pointed him towards the shower. It felt good, too, up until the time when he closed his eyes and all he could see was her face just before he snapped her neck.

His side was worse than he thought. Several bullets had nicked him, and the wounds wouldn't stop bleeding. He wrapped some gauze around his midsection and several strips around his arm. He pulled on a too-small, but clean, undershirt and slid into his jeans again. If he looked presentable enough, maybe Jethro would take him home.

He found Gibbs sitting on his sofa sipping coffee, or so he thought.

"Here," Gibbs said, handing him a mug.

Tony took it and lifted it to his nose, only it didn't have hot coffee in it. He let the smooth bourbon slide down his throat, thankful that Gibbs liked bourbon instead of whiskey. He sat down slowly and leaned back, letting the alcohol take over. After pouring himself another shot, he said, "I've never killed a person like that before."

Gibbs poured himself another shot of bourbon and thought about it. He stared into his mug and said, "I take it you figured out who she was?"

He nodded, "Yeah. It took me awhile though. She… sorta… distracted me from thinking."

Gibbs smiled at the understatement, but realized just how much he was hurting. "If you let it, Tony, it'll consume you. You have to let it go. Know that she was a murderer and she would have killed you and us if you hadn't stopped her."

Deep down inside, he knew his boss was right. But it didn't make what he did any less repulsive, or make him feel any less guilty.

Gibbs tossed a blanket his way and said, "Make yourself comfortable. Ducky will look you over in the morning." He picked up the bottle and his mug and left his senior agent alone in his living room.

He left the door to the basement. Makes it easier to hear that way. There'd be nightmares, but he'd be there. And there'd be times of irritability, and he'd be there for him then too. And then there'd be times of doubt, questioning his actions, and he'd be there for him then. He had no sooner picked up his sanding block when he heard the sounds and movements of a restless sleep.

It was going to be a long night.

~~Fini

**Thanks for reading and commenting. This concludes my dust bunny series and now I get to write on other stories that feature my favorite character, Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Maybe by the holidays I'll have something to post. ~Jasmine**


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